Crackle of Flames
by AgeofAquarius
Summary: During Ennis and Jack's second night of lovemaking, the campfire crackles more intensely than usual.....but is it the fire? Or is it their union? Something they can't comprehend, deny, or resist, only feel and savor... Contains poetically graphic sex.


The fire crackled. Or was it something else?

Ennis Del Mar clenched his hands together. Before him, the flames of the fireplace crackled and spewed plain as day. Whatever it was, it was there. It had always been there.

"_Jack Twist."_

"_Ennis."_

"_Your folks just stop at Ennis?"_

"_Del Mar."_

"_Good to know you, Ennis del Mar."_

From that moment on.

Hard to believe that it was prominent even then. Just a handshake, an exchanging of names. There had been something there, a pulsing current underlying the simple touch of hands and exchanging of each others' identity.

Even now, there was no name for it. Even after what it became. No matter what it had been, there was no denying what it became. Or what it could be.

The origin of this….this silent yet resonant, invisible yet evident sensation was within Ennis's reach. Inside the tent, sprawled out half-nude and pensive.

Ennis unclenched his hands. It dawned on him like a lone ray of sunlight among a tumult of dark storm clouds. What it had become, he had no control over. What it could become next, the path that it dragged them down like gradually submissive mules, was in his hands. This was something he'd dare not clench to death.

--- - ---- -- -

"_It's a one-shot thing you got goin' on me here."_

"_It's nobody's business but ours."_

"_You know, I ain't queer."_

"_Me neither."_

It wasn't characteristic of Jack Twist to deny the obvious, to turn a blind eye on what was right in front of him. It wasn't in his nature to let any spark of impulsive desire to go unfulfilled.

That was the hold Ennis del Mar had on him, he decided. Making him go out of his way. That son of a bitch. Never said a word, never let up.

Never let up on what? Jack didn't even know. _Good to know you, Ennis del Mar. _No response. _See your for supper_. No reply. The man couldn't even manage a nod of acknowledgement or a _Good to know you too._ Someone with the balls to deny Jack a decent salutations wasn't worth even a one-shot thing.

_It had all been me, _Jack decided. _It was all me_. _None of him._ He had, in a half-asleep, damn-near-drunk condition, groped around for….what? Ennis's hand. Even with all his other senses numbed, his sense of touch had some form of resolution, whether it be with his own conscious consent or not. It had been his hands that tingled for Ennis's face, his groin, his hands that clenched the blankets as….as Ennis thrust. Ennis had thrust. It had been Ennis who'd unzipped his pants in damn near frantic desperation, then pulled off Jack's with urgency, then entered him with a meticulous application of….natural lubricant of saliva.

It hadn't all been Jack. He wasn't the only one who'd wanted it. Ennis, not queer, holding the incident in no high regard, had taken the lead. No sense denying that.

No sense denying the swelling flare of Jack's chest, as if his heart had swelled too large for his rib cage, as Ennis entered the tent, crouched down before him in tentative desire.

--- -- --- ---- -

An instinctive yearning for natural warmth of flesh. A tingling desire within the sinews of their thighs. A sudden, searing hunger that no amount of beans could satisfy. Something laid out open, raw, and prickling like a peeled-back scab. A want, need, for something to feel and smell and taste and just hold until their arms numbed. It was there, it was real, it was calling their name. Neither one could ignore its beck and call.

Especially not Jack. No sense hiding the cobalt sparks crackling in the blue of his eyes, the aching need for….just one taste.

Ennis's gaze averted from the ground to the open flap of the tent to his own knees, him being unwilling, or unable, to look Jack in the eye. Jack sensed this. He knew the feeling, the whisper of doubt that resounded louder in Ennis's mind than in his own.

A gentle grip on Ennis's wrist gave no assurance, not at first. Nor did Jack's cupping of Ennis's cheek in his hand. A little force was in need. A little force needed to pull Ennis's closer, to quench Jack's thirst, and to slow both their hammering hearts.

Ennis was taken aback. Jack persisted, gently, for Ennis's sake as well as his own. Sure enough, Ennis tilted his head forward, and their lips met.

The flames crackled. Was it the flames? Neither knew.

They'd sampled a taste, and they wanted more. Was that alright? Ennis wondered. His eyes were closed. Caution. Is this alright? Jack nodded slightly, as if hearing him. It was alright. Nothing that felt this way could possibly not be alright.

Slowly, tentatively, Jack laid himself down, bringing Ennis's down with him, draping his love's body over his own. Gently Jack's fingers nestled in Ennis's hair. Tenderly he held him, wanting to reassure and be reassured. Blindly Ennis's ran his hand up Jack's neck, down his chest and ribs. Tenderly still, Jack turned him over, mounting him.

Willingly Ennis lay. Without fear he took as Jack gave. Jack's body pressing itself down on his own, legs, hips, pulsing groins hard-pressed together in perfect alignment. They fit. It was alright. It was definitely alright.

Jack worked his way down. Ennis's lips, his neck. The barely functioning part of Jack's brain made a mental note: Ennis had a definite weakness for butterfly kisses on the pulse of his neck. Unbuttoned the shirt, exposed his bare, heaving chest. Listened to the heartbeat where his lips were. Unzipped the pants, pulled them off, ran his hands up his ankles, shin, knees, thighs. The prime pulse of vein, the primary flexing of muscle, he savored full-frontal, enclosing his mouth over the rock-solid, erect limb.

Ennis tensed, his toes going numb. A tightening in the lower region, accompanied by an automatic upward thrust of his tingling hips. Release. A moan resounded as he released. Warmth, surging and numbing, consumed him. Jack collapsed on his side, his face pillowed on Ennis's hip, the rich, succulent taste of Ennis del Mar coated and rich on his lips.

The flames crackled. In the state they were in, neither man could tell if it came from outside. All they knew is that they couldn't pretend they didn't hear it. Couldn't deny themselves this.

Jack licked his lips, then rolled over on his back and sighed. He'd hadn't realize how long he'd held his breath. Both men could've sworn the flames crackled deafeningly as Ennis had his share, unleashing what had burned within him for too long. And then he, too, breathed a sign of relief.

Their first night they'd gone at it straightforward, taking it like gluttons. No relief. Second time around, they'd taken the time to savor their union. Only then had there been relief.

The flames were strong that night, only dying down in the instant the two men, entwined and aligned, were claimed by sleep.


End file.
